


Over the Moon

by cowboykylux



Category: Logan Lucky (2017)
Genre: Come Eating, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Kissing, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:40:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25653001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: The first time Clyde tells you he loves you, it comes as a complete accident -- turns out you love him just as much.
Relationships: Clyde Logan/Reader, Clyde Logan/You
Kudos: 36





	Over the Moon

“Hey Earl,” Clyde calls outside as he bangs the front door of his bar open from an accidental use of too much force, “You got a light?”

It’s a cool evening, the end of winter finally giving way to the start of Spring, but not quite. There ain’t no more snow on the ground near Duck Tape, and it’s brought a whole bunch of customers new and old into the warm welcoming atmosphere. Was a helluva lot easier for folks to come down when they didn’t have to worry about icy paved parkin’ lots.

“Well shoot, always.” Earl, perpetually sittin’ outside having a cigarette, fishes in his pocket and tosses Clyde a small red bic lighter with a friendly, “Catch.”

Clyde’s reflexes haven’t gone away since the war, and he plucks it outta the sky real easy, flicks the little metal roller once or twice.

“Thanks – damn, this one’s outta juice.” He sighs, shaking it and hearing it empty.

“I got a pack of matches, if it’ll help.” You say, stepping onto the front porch from the parking lot, a light jacket on and a smile on your face, as you extend a small white matchbook that’s only got some dirt from wear and tear on it. 

“Darlin’ what’re you doin’ here?” Clyde asks, all his thoughts zeroing in on you, on your face, on that smile.

Damn you’re gorgeous when you smile, he thinks, as his hand moves on autopilot to accept the little thing of matches from you. Your fingers brush up against his for a moment, and you duck your head bashfully, give a little shrug as you take another step onto the porch.

“Savin’ the day, it would seem.” You smile at Earl, who only blows you a friendly kiss. You turn back to Clyde and bat your lashes at him, and he feels his whole heart swell up when you say, “I missed you, thought I’d come by.”

“I’m mighty glad ya did.” He tells you quietly, honestly.

Earl was always good about pickin’ up on moods and things like that, was always good at sensing when he should head out, and he can sense one of those times now.

“It’s a little too warm out here fer me, I’ll be inside.” He says pointedly, givin’ y’all a friendly wink as he gets up off his favorite chair, heads back through the door.

When he’s gone, and it’s just the two of y’all standin’ on the front porch, Clyde scratches the back of his neck and sidles up real smooth up next to ya.

“You look real pretty tonight, (Y/N).” He says, immediately kicking himself, “Not – not that ya don’t look pretty all the time! But well, I dunno, the moon looks good on ya.”

There’s no trace of offense in your smile though, not when you lean forward to put a hand on his cheek, a sweet little somethin’ that’s got him melting right there, melting into a puddle of affection for ya.

“Thanks Clyde, you’re handsome as ever, as always.” You reply, savin’ him from tripping over his tongue again. “What’d you need the light for?”

“Oh, the damn grill in the back went outta flame, just needed something to get it goin’ again that’s all. The one we’ve got don’t got any more lighter fluid in it.” Clyde grumbles, gesturing back to the bar with a huff and a puff.

“You should go back inside then, give the cook them matches, huh?” You ask, and his heart sinks a little. He was kinda hopin’ to spend some more time with you, but he really should go back, he was the owner after all, he couldn’t leave his employees hangin’.

“Yep.” He nods, and the sadness must read across his face because soon you’re chucklin’ to yourself a little and he realizes you were only teasin’.

“Or you could kiss me instead.” You playfully walk two fingers up his chest, toying with the button of his shirt.

“I like that idea better, I think.” He agrees, grins at ya real big when you loop your arms around his shoulders, your hot mouth sweet as wine against his.

You kiss him for a while, the slow slick slide of your tongue dragging against his, curling against the roof of his mouth, tracing the crooked edges of his teeth, as him breathing hard and fast. He winds his arm around you, grasps your chin in his hand and holds ya there, holds ya in place for him to practically consume ya.

He’s so wrapped up in it that he nearly misses the way your hands drop to his jeans, work at the button there. He groans, walks you back back back across the porch, to a darker area where the lights don’t shine too bright, where you’re partially hidden, out of view as you pull his cock out.

“Thank ya sweetheart,” He kisses you, “You’re good to me.” 

This ain’t the first time you’ve touched him, you’ve been havin’ sex for damn near a month now. It felt good, so good, to have a girlfriend, because that’s what you were – that’s how you introduced yourself. You were his girl, his darlin’. And you were gonna make him come.

It’s always so much better when you jerk him off than when he does it himself. He curls his body around yours and groans out your name, over and over, just your name. You’re the only thing on his mind, the only thing he ever wants – and he’s got you. Tonight, he’s got you, and he’s gonna have you over and over again, as soon as he’s done with this damn shift. 

“Oh shit,” He groans, his forehead dropping onto your shoulder, body tingling.

Your hand ain’t an expert on him, not yet, but in time he knows it will be. In time he knows he’ll know every part of you, and you’ll know every part of him. But for now, it’s good enough that he’s keening, that he’s panting and grunting in your ear.

Then you do some fantastic fuckin’ twisting motion with your wrist, and he’s coming – coming all over your palm. He winces, he always had a big fuckin’ load, especially when you were anywhere near him, winces because he knows there’s a lot that’s painting your hand.

But you, the angel you are, just bring your sticky hand up to your mouth and lick it clean, suck the digits and lick at the palm, and he can’t help it, he just has to blurt out an,

“God damn I love you.”

And the two of you freeze, because he ain’t never said that before. He’s terrified suddenly, a cold pit in the base of his stomach ruins his orgasm, because shit, what if that was too soon? Too fast? He wants to kick himself because he didn’t want to do this in a dark corner of the fuckin’ bar for christsake.

“You mean that?” You whisper, your eyes wide, and he’s ready for you to walk away, ready for you to laugh at him…but you don’t.

You just wait, lookin’ like the most beautiful deer in the headlights, caught off-guard by his confession in the best way.

“Yeah.” He nods, your expression of hope giving him hope himself, “Yeah I really do.”

“I love you too.” A big smile spreads across your face, absolutely lights up your features, and he lets out a long sigh of relief, whistles it out to be silly, to lighten the mood.

You kiss him, cup his face in your spit-sticky hands and kiss him when suddenly the door opens again –

“Hey lovebirds,” Earl sticks his head out of the bar, talkin’ in your direction though he can’t actually see you because y’all are beyond the light, “Cook really needs those matches.”

And only after Earl goes back inside do you burst into a fit of giggles, both over the moon and so in love with one another, so happy to finally say it out loud.


End file.
